


The Threefold Oasis

by Aquila_Star



Series: Powers of Persuasion [14]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bilbo feels too, But silly Hobbit has no idea, M/M, SMUTTY SMUT, Thorin Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-01
Updated: 2016-05-01
Packaged: 2018-06-05 15:54:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6711502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aquila_Star/pseuds/Aquila_Star
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thorin is beginning to have doubts, and all Bilbo can do is hang on and hope for the best. In the meantime, he could help with a distraction, perhaps?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Threefold Oasis

Laketown was an oasis in the middle of a long, dreary sexless desert. Thorin could not wait for the sexless part to be over. With their plans firmly settled and their provisions arranged for, there was nothing left to do but rest, eat, clean their clothing and sharpen their weapons. Unfortunately, just when Thorin thought he could pull Bilbo away and lock their bedroom door, the Master decided to engage Thorin in a long, boring conversation about the gold and how much he was going to get. Thorin's patience was thinning, more quickly with every second that passed. 

The Master was not just greasy and creepy, he was selfish, greedy, devious and clearly didn't care one bit about his people. He lived in relative luxury...the furnishings in the house, his clothing, everything was worn and faded, but the house was warm and the food, though bland and unappetizing, was plentiful. It was a far cry from the state of Bard's kitchen, and Thorin knew that there were many who were less well off than Bard. Which is to say, not well off at all. There were also casks of ale and plenty of wine, in addition to the brandy that the Master preferred. 

And he preferred a lot of it. Thorin's distaste for him grew as he drank more and more, becoming more insistent that Thorin agree to his wildly exaggerated terms. Thorin's patience was nearly at an end. He did not want to have anything to do with such a man, but his cooperation was necessary to their quest, so Thorin held his temper in check. He would need to make his escape soon however, if he intended to leave without punching the slimy man in the face. And to think, he could be spending this time in his room. Alone. With Bilbo. 

Besides, all the talk of mountains made out of gold and the flowing of silver fountains was making him itchy. There was a restless twitch in his muscles that demanded he leave this place _now_ and go to Erebor. He couldn't suppress the desire to see the gold, to gauge how much there was, and although he insisted to himself that it was simply so he could know how best to divide it, a deeper, darker part of him just wanted to be there, to be in the middle of it. 

The gold was calling to him. 

Thorin knew that this had been a danger. He knew how the madness had taken his grandfather, how it had twisted him into a Dwarf all but unrecognizable. How he had cared for the gold above all else, even over the lives and well being of his kin. Thorin was determined it would not happen to him. 

And yet, he couldn’t deny the itch that buzzed under his skin, the anger that surged up whenever the Master spoke of his share. Thorin would keep his word, he would reward the man with proper payment for his assistance, but he would not be happy about it. 

And none of that compared to his need to find the Arkenstone. It was more than a token to gain the allegiance of all seven kingdoms, including the one he was born to, it was more than a family heirloom. It was the divine right to rule the mountain, to enact his judgement upon all who came under his authority. It was proof that he was the King. That Erebor, and all its treasure, was his. 

Thorin shook his head to clear it, having lost the plot of what the Master was saying almost as soon as he'd started speaking. It seemed he had moved away from the topic of the gold, and was currently ranting about Bard and his rebellious, treacherous ways. Thorin didn’t believe Bard was in the slightest treacherous, though he could not blame the bargeman for rebelling against such a man as the Master. He cared much more for the people of Laketown than the Master, by far. Thorin sighed, breathing deeply to restrain himself from drawing his sword and ending this farce. He had to get out of here. Not to Erebor, just away. He needed Bilbo. Of course, that was when the familiar voice cut into the master's tirade, a voice sent from Mahal himself to save Thorin from the Master, and from himself. Bilbo always seemed to know what he needed, and when. Thorin closed his eyes and whispered a prayer of thanks to his maker. 

 

* * *

 

Bilbo sat with Balin beside the fireplace, an ale in his hands while his feet warmed, filling his whole body with a slack sense of relaxation. His belly was filled for the first time since leaving Beorn's, and his head spun pleasantly with the smoke that billowed above them. Finding a satisfactory pipeweed in Laketown had been a very happy surprise. 

He looked around the room, noting how happy and relaxed the Dwarves looked. They were in varying stages of drunkenness, having had their fill of the food earlier that evening. Most of them were smoking, as the Master had gifted them some of the weed, and they had used some of their meagre coin to procure more. They were happy, well fed, plied with drink and on the doorstep of Erebor. There was a feeling of celebration about the evening, even Kili looked happy, although on the grey side, and Bilbo couldn't help but be swept up in it.

Then his eyes swept over to Thorin, and that's where they remained. Thorin had been reluctant to stay in Laketown, but had been convinced by their ragged, starving state. They still had several days before they needed to find the hidden door, and that time was best spent resting and refuelling.

Thorin, however, did not look particularly rested or relaxed at the moment, and Bilbo knew the reason why. The Master was talking at him, and Thorin looked as if he was trying to keep from drawing his sword, or punching the man in the face. Bilbo couldn't blame him. The Master was a sorry excuse for a human being, and Bilbo admired Thorin's restraint. Still, he had been trapped in the conversation long enough, so Bilbo finished off his ale, tapped the ash out of his pipe and said a quick goodnight to Balin, ignoring the knowing twinkle in his friend's eyes.

He tucked the pipe into his pocket and made his way across the room to Thorin, smiling at those he passed, but avoiding getting drawn into any conversations, determined on his course. As he drew near he saw Thorin frowning, and Bilbo could see the signs of a temper barely held in check, along with the weariness that constant travel and stress could bring, topped off with the tedium of the Master's company. 

Bilbo reached them at last, moving to stand beside Thorin, to catch his attention.

“Excuse me,” he said politely, cutting the Master off in mid rant, not caring if such a thing would be considered rude. There was only so much of the Master one person could stand, and from the looks of it, Thorin was quickly reaching that point. 

“I'm sorry sir,” he continued. “But I need a quick word with Thorin, I hope you don't mind.” He smiled graciously, turning his back to the man and leaning up, tugging Thorin down by the hand to whisper in his ear. Thorin's face revealed his relief, and he leaned down eagerly, his other hand resting on Bilbo's hip. 

“We have a warm bed in a private room and I'm heading up there now. Are you coming with me?”

Thorin stiffened, his hand clutching Bilbo's hip tightly. When Bilbo pulled back, his eyes were wide and his mouth opened, his breathing suspiciously ragged. Bilbo stepped back, raising a brow in question. 

“Yes, thank you Master Baggins,” he said, his voice like velvet to Bilbo's ears. He looked up at the Master and nodded. “There are important matters I must attend to, please excuse me.” The Master blustered, but could not refuse, having no reason to keep his captive audience. 

Before he could respond, Thorin turned, the hand at Bilbo's hip sliding to the small of his back, leading him away and to the stairs. Bilbo went eagerly, it having been far too long since they'd had time to themselves. It took mere moments to climb the stairs, and then they were through the door to Thorin's room, and the door was closed behind them. 

“Well, Master Baggins,” Thorin said, his voice quiet and seductive. “Now that you have me here, what do you intend to do with me?”

“Can you not guess?” Bilbo replied, slipping his jacket off his shoulders, taking his waistcoat with it. He smiled widely at Thorin, who followed his example, undoing his belt and pulling off his own clothing, until he stood bare chested before Bilbo in trousers and boots. 

“I have an idea,” he said, but Bilbo only raised his eyebrows, slowly undoing the buttons of his shirt. 

“Really?” Thorin pulled his boots off as fast as he could, padding toward Bilbo in bare feet. 

“I thought I'd lay you out on the bed, suck you until you're ready to scream, and then ride you until we're both a mess.”

Thorin stopped, halfway across the room, the look on his face made Bilbo chuckle, it was slack with lust, his eyes wide, his breaths ragged and deep.

“Bilbo, that's...uhhn,” he trailed off, watching avidly as Bilbo pulled his shirt out of his trousers and off his shoulders. He swallowed, his eyes following Bilbo as he moved toward the bed, undoing his trousers as he went. Bilbo left them partially undone, climbing up onto the bed, a little more awkwardly that he'd like, but Thorin didn't seem to care, if his wide eyed stare was any indication. 

“But first I want you to come over here and suck me until I come. It's been a while and I'd like to be nice and loose when you prep me.”

Thorin shook himself out of his stupor and approached Bilbo, running his hands up Bilbo's legs and splaying them across his belly. “That sounds amazing,” he said, having found his voice once more. “But can we do it tomorrow?”

Bilbo's head shot up off the bed. “Tomorrow? Don't tell me you just want to go to sleep,” Bilbo said, his brow furrowed. “The erection in your trousers speaks differently.” For good measure, he lifted a foot and ran his toes across the straining bulge before him, making Thorin groan and lean in, falling onto his hands, eyes closed. 

“Bilbo, stop...just for a moment,” he said, opening his eyes, a plea within them. 

“Okay,” Bilbo said, completely confused now, but he pulled back a bit, sliding out from under Thorin and sitting up on the bed, patting the spot beside him, which Thorin took gratefully. 

They sat silently for a moment, and Bilbo just watched Thorin curiously. He had no idea what was going through Thorin's head, but his was at a loss. Thorin had never said no to sex, ever. Bilbo had been the one to set limits on what they did and where they did it, not that their journey had given him a reason to limit it lately. They hadn't so much as touched each other that way since they entered Mirkwood.

Finally he reached out and rubbed his hand up Thorin's arm, moving closer to rest his hand on Thorin's broad shoulder, leaning into him, hoping Thorin would relax. 

“Thorin,” he said gently. “What's the matter?”

“Nothing!” Thorin exclaimed quickly. “Nothing's wrong, it's just...I wanted to ask you for something, and tell you something, and I'm not sure how to do either.”

“Oh. Okay, well...why don't you start at the beginning.”

Thorin sighed, running a hand though his hair and leaning back into Bilbo. “The fact is, I'm worried,” he said simply. “And I don't feel like I can talk to any of the others. I'm sure they'd understand and support me, but I truly feel that you are the only one who can really help. I am not your King, after all, and you have never been afraid to stand up and tell me when I'm wrong.”

“Yes, well, I've always been rather out spoken,” Bilbo said with a laugh, hoping to ease some of Thorin's tension, tensions he could feel in the tight muscles across Thorin's back. “It's partly why I wasn't all that popular in The Shire, despite being a Baggins.”

Thorin nodded, turning to look at Bilbo and giving him a sad smile. 

“What are you worried about?” Bilbo asked, leaning further into Thorin's side, lending him what support he could with his mere presence. 

“Remember what Gandalf and Elrond were discussing in Rivendell? You overheard them, as did I.”

“I remember,” Bilbo said quietly, wondering why he hadn't thought of it right away. It was the gold. Thorin was worried about going mad, as his father and grandfather had before him. No wonder he hadn't wanted to discuss it with the others. 

“I fear that I too, will fall to that fate.”

“Thorin, you are not your father. Or your grandfather.”

“Yes, I know. But I am of the line of Durin. I have the same weaknesses.” Thorin closed his eyes and breathed deeply, his shoulders tensing even more.

“And yet, you possess many strengths which they did not. Your life has taken you down paths that they could never have imagined, Thorin. You are not the same,” Bilbo insisted.

Thorin was silent, his fingers twitching. If possible, he was more tense even that before. Bilbo had no idea what to say that could ease his fears. He did not believe that Thorin would fall, he was certain that Thorin would be triumphant where his forebears had not. 

“Thorin, has something happened?”

“No,” Thorin said with a sigh. “Not yet. But I feel...itchy. Restless. I feel a pressing urge to go to Erebor. Now. I want...I want to see the gold. I keep telling myself that it's only to gauge it, to plan a strategy. So we'll know how to divide it, how to properly put it to use. But the fact is, I simply want to see it...to touch it. To feel it around me.” He shuddered, bone deep and chilling. Bilbo felt goosebumps prickling his skin.

“Thorin,” he said, but there was no response. He shook Thorin lightly, pushing his shoulder back and twisting until he was in Thorin's lap, settling himself astride Thorin's hips. 

“Thorin,” he said again, holding the bearded face within his hands, pulling it up until Thorin met his eyes. “I will be there, I promise. I will be beside you, and we will face it together, all right? I will not leave you alone in this.”

Thorin nodded, taking a deep breath, leaning forward to rest his forehead against Bilbo's. His arms came up to wrap around Bilbo's back, pulling him closer as he continued to take calm, steady breaths. Bilbo stroked his cheeks, letting his fingers wander across Thorin's face. 

“Yes,” Thorin agreed. “Together.” He looked into Bilbo's eyes again, then kissed him, slowly, softly, just a brushing of lips and a mingling of breath. Bilbo sighed, kissing him again, the gentle press of their lips shaking something loose inside him, filling his chest with a sweet ache that stretched out into his limbs. 

They kissed unhurriedly, neither pushing further, the intense rush that usually marked their kisses put aside for the moment. Bilbo was struck by a feeling of tenderness toward Thorin that he hadn't ever felt before, not really. His moments with Thorin were heated and passionate, often rushed and rarely tender. 

This was different. This was more. Bilbo's stomach twisted uncomfortably, even as he sank further into Thorin's lap, wrapping arms around his shoulders, falling further into the kiss. Thorin was deepening it, his hands beginning to roam further, as the air between them heated considerably. 

Thorin pulled back, resting his head on Bilbo's shoulder, his breathing slowing. 

“Thank you, amralime,” he whispered, and a shiver swept over Bilbo. 

“You're welcome,” he replied, leaning in and breathing in the clean scent of Thorin's hair. Bathing...that was another reason why he had helped convince Thorin to stay in Laketown. They would be clean and refreshed, full of energy when they faced Erebor at last. 

“Now,” he said, leaning back and grinning widely at Thorin. “You said you had something to ask me...was it just to help you, as if you even needed to ask, as I will always do my best to help you in everything...or was it something else?”

Thorin chuckled, smiling widely in a way that Bilbo did not see often enough. He was always pleased when he was able to draw such a smile from Thorin. “No,” he said, sobering. “It is a much more pleasant question, as it happens.”

“Excellent,” Bilbo said. “Go on, then.”

Thorin flushed, another thing which Bilbo did not see often enough. It made Thorin look vulnerable, which perhaps should not have been fetching in one who was a King, but it was. Very much so. Thorin refrained from speaking, so Bilbo just raised his brows, encouraging him. 

“I wonder if...if you would be willing to...switch.” Thorin looked to the side, not meeting Bilbo's eyes. “At least, this time.”

“Switch what?” Bilbo asked, not parsing what Thorin's intent was. 

“I wondered if you'd like to...be on top,” he said at last, his speech full of awkward pauses. Bilbo's eyes widened, unable to hide his surprise.

“You...really?” he asked, unsure exactly of how Thorin's request made him feel. Part of him was eager. Quite eager. Another part liked very much how they'd been doing it all along. The feel of Thorin over him, inside him, the way Thorin's fierce presence and demanding kisses made him feel cared for, desired. It was exquisite, and Bilbo couldn't seem to get enough of it. 

On the other hand, he wondered how it would feel to press inside Thorin, to hold that strength under his hands, to have Thorin give it up willingly. The thought was intoxicating. Bilbo had topped several times in his youth, having been with several of the young girls of his acquaintance, as well as topping more than one of the young boys he'd tumbled with. However, he'd learned quickly that he liked it best when a lover would take him and master him, drawing out his passion and owning him...at least for a time. There were few Hobbits with that type of will or drive, sexually or otherwise, so Bilbo had always felt like there was more, but he could never find it. 

Not in the Shire, anyway. And then he'd grown, and the Hobbits around him began falling in love and settling down, leaving Bilbo in want of more than just a forceful lover. He'd been in want of any lover at all. Having realised rather early that he was less than inclined towards the fairer sex, he'd given it up as hopeless, and had settled into a proper bachelorhood. 

And then he'd met Thorin. He'd wanted him as soon as he'd walked through Bilbo's green door, Thorin was large and imposing and strong, with a personality to match. Of course, he'd figured Bilbo out immediately, for which Bilbo would forever be grateful. Thorin had shown him what could exist between lovers, had shown him just how demanding and rewarding a forceful lover could be. He'd also shown Bilbo the world, its wonders and its dangers, and had made him part of a larger whole. He'd made friends better than any he'd had in The Shire, and learned things he never would have imagined. 

Thorin Oakenshield had changed his life. 

And Thorin needed this. Bilbo could sense it. He was intensely vulnerable, his fears and doubts beginning to overtake him. He had come to Bilbo for help, for succour, and if Bilbo could give him what he needed, he would. Bilbo would give him anything. 

“If that's what you want,” he replied at last, his head still spinning with the thought. “I'd be glad to.”

Thorin smiled at him, kissing him sweetly again. Bilbo kissed him back, deepening it until their tongues tangled fiercely. He pushed Thorin back on the bed, laying him out as he had imagined, though he would be riding Thorin in an entirely different manner. 

He made quick work of Thorin's trousers and his own, baring them both, finding that neither of them needed much encouragement in order to ready themselves. It had been far too long, and at last they were in a place where they could indulge. Neither of them wanted to wait, but Bilbo could at least keep one of his promises.

He leaned down quickly and took Thorin's straining cock into his mouth, as far down as he could handle, wetting it with his tongue until it slipped smoothly between his lips. Thorin's hand's fluttered above his head, brushing gently through his hair, but not gripping. Bilbo kept on, using every trick that he knew, everything he had discovered about Thorin's weaknesses, until the Dwarf was writhing under him, his cock filling Bilbo's mouth to bursting with the evidence of his need. Bilbo pulled back, taking in what he could and letting the rest slip down onto his hand, spreading it and wetting Thorin's cock even more. Then he licked it off, pulling Thorin inside again, even as he softened. 

“Bilbo, you are exceptionally skilled at that,” Thorin said, panting, his hands lying uselessly beside him on the bed. 

“I was rather rusty, until you came along,” Bilbo said with a smirk, pushing himself off the bed and ignoring the bobbing of his neglected cock as he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out yet another bottle of oil, this one pilfered from the Master's dingy kitchen. 

“Now,” he said, climbing up between Thorin's legs once more. “Knees up and spread.” 

Thorin swallowed thickly but obeyed, and Bilbo breathed deeply to control himself, his cock twitching at the sight. He'd covered Thorin with kisses and had caressed his entire body, but this was whole new perspective. He'd never seen Thorin like this, had never touched this part of him. Usually he was too overwhelmed with the force of Thorin's desire, and too lost in his own, to consider it. But this wasn't about him, this was about Thorin. This was about waylaying his doubts and soothing his fears. He had shown a vulnerability Bilbo was certain few had seen, and he would not shirk away from such a gift. 

He wetted his fingers with a generous amount of oil, and slowly, carefully, pushed a finger inside, blinking in surprise at just how tight Thorin was, although he was as relaxed as he could be, still breathing the aftermath of his climax. He loosened slowly, but before too long Bilbo was able to slip another in beside, pushing smoothly, feeling the stretch and hoping that Thorin was comfortable.

“Is this okay?” he asked, looking up and seeing Thorin's closed eyes and slack mouth. 

“Yes,” Thorin said, breathing deeply through the nose and letting out a sighing breath through his mouth. A calming breath if ever Bilbo saw one. “Yes. Don't stop.”

“I won't,” Bilbo assured him, leaning in as he kept up the motion of his hand, spreading Thorin gently as he licked a stripe up Thorin's cock, feeling it fill with blood once more. He tried a third finger and found it entered easily, Thorin relaxing even further as Bilbo's fingers filled him. 

“Okay, all right,” Thorin said, his eyes opening wide, boring into Bilbo with their intense gaze. “Now, please.”

Bilbo was helpless to deny him. Thorin was well stretched enough for Bilbo, his cock was fully hard once more, and Bilbo's was aching with the need for release. He crawled forward, running his hands up Thorin's legs and pushing them back, encouraging Thorin to hold them in place, allowing Bilbo more ready access. He slicked himself up, squeezing his cock gently and sliding it over Thorin's loosened hole before pushing in, gasping loudly at the intensity, the pressure. 

Thorin gasped as well, letting his head fall back to the bed, and Bilbo wondered if anyone else had ever seen him like this. If Thorin had ever allowed such a privilege of any other person. He scarcely believed that Thorin would give this to him alone, when he had lived to very long, when he had known so many before. 

He pulled back and pushed again, knowing that he would not last long, hoping that he could bring Thorin to pleasure before he found his own. He settled into a steady rhythm, wrapping a hand around Thorin's cock and tugging in time with his thrusts, wishing for the first time in his life that he was bigger, than he was taller. Tall enough to lean down and take Thorin's lips in a heated kiss, pouring all his desire and appreciation into it. 

But the thought passed as soon as it had come, and Bilbo could feel his climax approaching, every thrust into Thorin's heat bringing it closer, until Thorin reached his, spurting streaks of white release across his belly and Bilbo's hand. His muscled clenched, tight across his chest and shoulders, and tight around Bilbo's cock, pulling Bilbo's orgasm with a sharp pleasure that shocked him. He moaned and panted, falling forward onto Thorin's chest as his energy failed him. The blissful doze of release covered him, as he rose and fell with each of Thorin's panting breaths. 

“Bilbo,” Thorin said, his hands coming up to card through Bilbo's sweaty hair. “That was lovely.”

“Hmm,” Bilbo replied, wincing at the sensation as he pulled back, slipping from Thorin's body. He rolled to the side, pleased with himself, a tight tenderness in his chest for Thorin. “I'm glad. It was...interesting.”

“Have you never before?”

“Oh yes, of course,” Bilbo said. “With both male and female partners, but not for a long time. I found before too long that I preferred to be on the bottom. Which I'm sure you know.”

Thorin laughed, a rich, deep sound that filled Bilbo's veins with a thrumming of pleasure. “I do indeed. You are rather bossy about getting your way, usually. Why did you agree to the switch, then?”

“Oh, I would hardly deny you anything, Thorin Oakenshield,” Bilbo replied. “Were it in my power to give.”

“And I would deny you nothing, amralime,” Thorin said roughly, rolling so that he was over Bilbo now, sliding his arms up Bilbo's sides, hands under his shoulders so that he could rub Bilbo's scalp gently. He dropped his head, breathing in deeply, laying gentle kisses across Bilbo's neck and collarbone. Bilbo stared up in wonder, still shaken by how tender Thorin could be when the mood took him, letting his hands explore the smooth skin of Thorin's shoulders and neck, smiling a no doubt sappy smile as Thorin's head settled against him, his hot breath bathing Bilbo's neck. 

He drifted off, worn out by more than the stress and struggles of the quest, his head foggy with thoughts of Thorin and long days spent close to him in this manner, skin pressed against skin in warmth and comfort. As his limbs filled with heavy slumber, he felt more than heard Thorin whisper against his skin, lips brushing Khuzdul over the sensitive skin of his neck.

**Author's Note:**

> Yay! I wrote a ficlet tonight, lol. Seriously, it was an intense last few days, but I hope it's gonna slow down. Not least of which because we're getting to a part of the fic where I am less certain of how things will play out, although I do know the ending and have written a big portion of it already. I'll have to trust my instincts and my characters in the coming days.
> 
> Fingers crossed the next one comes out as quick!


End file.
